


Quarter Past Eight

by halliecam



Category: Mystrade - Fandom, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, johnlock - Fandom
Genre: ;D, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, M/M, Slightly rough, Smut, Steamy, Stood Up, body issues, confidence issues, date, mystrade, sex next chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 20:16:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2123286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halliecam/pseuds/halliecam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg Lestrade gets set up for a blind date by Donovan. Unfortunately he is stood up and Mycroft happens to be there to witness and possibly comfort the D.I. Will it be a one night stand or more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quarter Past Eight

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello there! If you've read any of my other works then you know I generally write Johnlock (seeing as they are my OTP), but lately I've been getting into Mystrade! Scandalous, I know. Here is my crack at Mystrade and how it could possibly start. BTW the waitress is a literary extent of myself, kinda. I couldn't resist the urge to add myself in there a little bit XD bwahaha! Anyways, enjoy!

Quarter past eight. Lestrade would wait only another fifteen minutes before he would order for himself. Politeness be damned. Besides if his date was expecting chivalry he should have showed up on time. The blind date wasn’t even his idea in the first place. Sally was concerned for him since his wife left him and decided that maybe it was time for Greg to explore his sexuality. Of course Greg wasn’t opposed to the idea; he was actually looking forward to embracing the bisexual part of him that had been smothered down by many years of crushing masculinity and fear. It was time Greg got back to the “free love” mentality that he got to experiment with in uni.

There was no love to be had when he was just sitting here by himself. He was stood up; it was almost 8:40 and he knew it was pointless to keep waiting. Bullocks! He even had worn the nice, albeit, scratchy shirt that Sally had bought him. Fat load of good that did him.

The waitress had returned, and Greg could see through her thick rimmed glasses that she felt a lot of sympathy for him. She handed him a drink, obviously alcoholic. “On the house,” she said with a tight smile before she turned to help another table.

Greg actually felt worse for her than he did for himself. He could only imagine how many times she had been stood up. She looked like the nerdy type, kind of plump and with slightly unruly hair. But he knew that looks were deceiving and he could tell that she was a wonderful girl. He looked down at the drink as she walked away. Looked like a rum and coke. Coincidently, Greg happened to enjoy them and he downed it before he picked up his previously untouched menu.

Well Sally spent all the time and effort into setting up this date for him; he might as well actually try the food. At least his bill would be cheaper now with just him. Not a few minutes later the waitress was back and was about to take his order. She was nervous and jittery. Now Greg knew it wasn’t because of him; he wasn’t an unattractive man by any means, but she was a lot younger than him and had spent a good 45 minutes feeling sorry for him. He looked around and noticed a relatively small group of people sitting in the remote corner of the restaurant that the poor girl kept looking at. Oh dear, she’s probably been saddled with that scary lot. They all looked particularly somber and business like.

Greg was about to turn away when from the corner of his eye he could see one of them staring at him.  He glanced back, _shit!_ It was bloody Mycroft Holmes. The one person he wouldn’t want to see him in such a weak position. Greg did his best to keep calm and give a little nod to the other man and even tried to smile, tried. Mycroft gave him a curt nod back and Greg could swear that he saw the corner of the man’s lips quirk up just slightly. _Damn!_ He must know exactly what’s happened to him. It’s not a very hard leap to make. Here Greg was sitting in a fancy restaurant, obviously dressed up, alone, and with a waitress who pitied him. Even he could make the “deduction” as Sherlock liked to call them.

No use in fretting over it, he thought as he turned around and gave the waitress his order; a simple steak platter was something he had been craving for ages and another rum and coke. Might as well, he had no one to impress now. He sat patiently waiting for his food. Greg felt the need to give Sally a little update and maybe a cross warning to never set him up again, no matter how “ruggedly good looking” the bloke was. That wasn’t even his type anyways. He much preferred tall, intelligent, pale, sleek looking people not unlike the person behind him.

Greg blushed at that thought and then became very paranoid. It was as though a pair of eyes were burning a hole through his back. He glanced over his shoulder only to be met with ice blue orbs; Mycroft was staring at him. He quickly turned back around. Lestrade was stunned as if he just got caught with his hands in the cookie jar, which was ridiculous he had done nothing wrong.  But the intensity that Mycroft was radiating in his direction made Greg feel as if he did something to provoke such a scrutinizing glare. He shook it off. _He’s probably just trying to evaluate me and see how I handle this situation. I look after his beloved brother; he must be cataloguing this as reference for any weird situations I could run into with Sherlock. That has to be it._ He looked down at the half written text message he was going to send to Sally.

**He didn’t show. Thanks for your concern but I think I can handle my own love affairs. See you at the station tomorrow. –GL**

_That should do it._ Hethought with slight bitterness. Not moments after he put his phone down the waitress put his meal down in front of him. She leaned into him a little too close, her cleavage practically in his face. Maybe she was interested after all. “Let me know if you need anything.” She said with a slight blush and she awkwardly swayed off to the other table, the one where Mycroft sat.

Lestrade watched her walk off with gaining interest. He followed her hips until his attention was caught by something else. It was Mycroft again, this time he slowly dragged his ice blue eyes from Lestrade to the waitress and back to Lestrade again. He quirked up an eyebrow at Greg as if to ask _really?_ Greg only shrugged with a wolfish grin; _well she’s not half bad._ He thought back at him. Mycroft gave a small shake of his head and returned his attention back to the girl while Lestrade turned around. That struck Lestrade as very un-Mycroft like, but who was he to judge. Greg hardly knew him in the first place.

The waitress came back again, this time with a napkin that she gave to Greg. She said nothing else but she was redder than when she left him last. He looked down at the napkin. There was a note written in very neat cursive; _“May I join you after my meeting? MH.”_ Greg stared for slightly longer than he meant to, and with strict motion he turned around looking straight at Mycroft he grinned and gave a polite nod. Mycroft smiled back at him and quickly turned back to his fellow constituents. Very un-Mycroft like indeed.

 _Well this sure is interesting._ Greg thought as he turned to his food and took a well-deserved bite and gave a small satisfactory groan. It was incredibly good steak; at least Sally picked a good food joint.

After his meal had finished and he had tucked himself into his third rum and coke there were sounds of chairs scooting and polite farewells behind Greg; he knew Mycroft would come up behind him any minute. Mycroft didn’t disappoint. He approached the sitting man and stood right next to him. “Mind if I join you?” He asked with his voice filled with same aristocracy he usually possessed.

“Not at all, of course if you aren’t too tired from your uuhhhm… _business_ meeting.” Lestrade slightly hesitated at the word business. He knew that with the formality of the group it must have been business but he also knew that Mycroft was Mycroft-the-entire-British-government Holmes, and his “business” could be anything really.

“It was dry, yes but that can be fixed with something to drink.” Mycroft gave an almost wolfish smile, it was very similar to the one Greg had given him earlier. He slowly sat down across from him, hanging up his umbrella on the back of his chair and summoning the waitress over with a flick of his wrist. “I’ll have what my _friend_ is drinking.”

The waitress gave a tight smile and glanced between the two of them as she scuttled off somewhat confused.

“So why are you here, Detective Lestrade?”

Greg winced at the formality Mycroft used. “Call me Greg, please. Well that’s rather embarrassing actually. I … uh… was stood up, as they say.” Greg could barely stammer it out. It was much more embarrassing saying it out loud than just assuming the rather beautiful man knew already.

Mycroft’s tongue flickered out over his pink lips. “That I already knew, Gregory.” He gave a look as if to say that was the most casual Greg was going to get. “You’re wearing a new and evidently uncomfortable shirt. I was more curious as to why you _stayed_ here. You could have left at any time, yet you stayed to meet with me. A person you hardly know and whose brother you babysit.” He squinted his eyes and leaned forward with interest.

“Well having company sounded better than going home to an empty apartment. Besides you seem interesting and I was wondering if you’d like to share a dessert with me. This places’ chocolate lava cake looks bloody amazing but I don’t think I can finish it all by myself.” Greg winked at the man across from him.

Right on cue the waitress was back with said dessert in her hands. She placed it between them as well as two forks. This time she winked at the two of them, giggled and practically skipped off.

“That was rather telling of our situation.” Mycroft couldn’t help but try to cover up a little grin with his slender, pale fingers.

The site of Mycroft’s elegant digits gave Greg a jolt of excitement running down his spine, to a region that Greg wasn’t so sure he wanted stimulated.

“I guess so.” Greg chuckled back. “I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of ordering it.” His smile turned into a more bashful one as he picked up the fork.

“How can I say no now?” Mycroft gave an exaggerated sigh while also picking up his fork. He flashed a toothy grin and sunk his fork in to the moist chocolate cake. As he dragged the fork away the inner layer of chocolate oozed out on to the plate. He delicately popped the fork-full into his mouth and gave a slight moan; it practically melted in his mouth. Mycroft was a huge sweet tooth contrary to most people’s beliefs. He couldn’t resist chocolate or cake, not alone both of them together.

Greg watched with great interest. It was like food porn and he couldn’t help but stare. There was just something so sexy about Mycroft enjoying himself some cake. It took a second but he realized that Mycroft was also staring at him; the well-dressed man slowly pulled the fork out of his mouth and licked his lips for any residual chocolate. Greg flushed, _he’s doing it on purpose that cheeky bastard._

Greg stabbed his fork into the cake with a little more gusto than he meant, and he quickly shoveled the bite into his mouth. It was good, but not as good as Mycroft made it seem.

He swallowed roughly, coughed a bit and then spoke, “On that same subject; why did you ask to meet with me?” Greg was actually truly confused. Here this man was, this incredibly handsome, man dressed in an impeccable three piece suit eating cake with him. Mycroft was certainly dazzling. His jacket was open, his tie loose and his strawberry hair muzzled slightly. Greg was getting more entranced with this man by the minute.

“Something very similar to your answer… you seemed interesting. Besides I think it’s about time I got to know you beyond just being my brother’s keeper.” Mycroft’s icy eyes twinkled at Greg.

“What can I tell you that you haven’t already learned from my _file_ that I’m sure you have on me, Mr. Holmes?” Greg teased Mycroft, and he could tell that Mycroft was enjoying his company.

“Ah, I see. You’re right about the file, but it only gives me a basic overview. Where you live, who you’ve been with, your family history… Trivial things. I’m sure there is more to you than what can be written down on paper. Tell me something you think won’t be on your file.” Mycroft suggested with another shovel of cake and satisfied groan. He could see the affects his flirting had on the detective and he was enjoying the way he made Gregory squirm with each little noise he made. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t interested in the detective as well.

“That certainly’s a challenge. I don’t have much of a life outside of work after the wife left me... Uuuhhh...” He couldn’t help but wince a little bit at his rambling; he must be so unintelligent sounding to Mycroft which worried him. While he sat there thinking of something an idea popped into his head. “Well there is something that most people don’t know about me. But if I tell you, you have to promise this can’t get back to my mates at the station.” Greg looked very serious, practically grim. This made Mycroft think that Gregory’s secret was something very devious; possibly from his past, when he was going through his punk-rock teen phase (obviously on the file).

Mycroft nodded, he fixed himself into the most serious and concentrated facial expression that he used for many other more serious discussions.

Greg let out a sigh and a small smile, “I absolutely love Pride and Prejudice. The book, the 1995 mini-series, and even the 2005 movie; it’s rather embarrassing. If anyone at the station finds out I’ll be a laughing stock!” He ended his exclamation with an even more grim expression than he started with and even added in a slightly worried tone, he wanted to make it seem as if he was completely serious. The more he spoke the more he could see Mycroft’s determination melt away. His stony expression was more like jelly and his lips kept trembling into an almost-smile. _Gotcha, mate!_ Greg cheered with triumph in his head.

Not a second later and they both were bursting at the seams with laughter. Greg was the first one to actually break; he couldn’t bare a second more of Mycroft’s feigned expression.

“As they say, you certainly got me, Gregory.” Mycroft huffed still trying to control his giggles. Greg had never heard such a wonderful laugh from anyone in his entire life. Maybe it was the fact that he had never witnessed Mycroft’s laugh, or the way his shoulders shook and his brow wrinkled with such satisfying wrinkles. Or it could be how his eyes lit up in the most marvelous way; whatever the reason Greg wished to make his new found companion laugh as much as he could this evening.

It took a few minutes but too soon they were calming down. “Actually though, I really do enjoy them. I just don’t care if other people know.” He finished with a sincere smile and reached for his drink. He was mid gulp when Mycroft shook his head, loosened his tie a bit, and began to shoulder off his suit coat. Then he slowly started to unbutton his waistcoat. Greg watched with an intense stare and tried to swallow his rum and coke, gulping it much harder than he had expected. How could one man be so sexy?  

Mycroft looked up from his buttons to Gregory’s intense stare. Their eyes remain locked for a second too long. Lestrade broke first again, turning away with an incredibly red face. He tried to adjust his trousers without Mycroft noticing, tried. There was no way the older, smarter brother of the king of observations would miss the subtle shift. Greg awkwardly looked back at Mycroft, but the gorgeous man just flashed him a smile. Oh, did it make Greg’s head spin, or was that the alcohol?

Being the cheeky bastard that Mycroft is, he began to slowly slide off the waistcoat and work on his cuff buttons as well. This time he kept his eyes on Gregory, smirking as he slowly rolled and slid up his sleeves. Gregory grew very hot; this was the closest to seeing Mycroft naked that he had ever been. The warmth of his face and groin were spreading throughout his body giving him a nice flush. Mycroft couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight of the slightly pink detective in front of him. It had been awhile since Mycroft had affected someone this much and he was thoroughly enjoying it and getting a little worked up himself though he would never admit it.

“You are quite stunning.” Gregory said as he shook his head with what was a mixture of disbelief and embarrassment. Mycroft blushed, but only slightly he was very good at guarding his emotions.

“Oh?” He questioned the detective. “How so? From where I am standing _Greg_ , you are not so bad yourself.” Mycroft made sure to emphasize his use of informality. Hopefully, that would hint to Greg that he was open to something more. _More?_ He questioned himself. It was surprising; not that he was attracted to Gregory, but that he was attracted to him.

Gregory Lestrade was a “looker” as some people would say. His black hair peppered with specks of grey gave him a distinguished look. His face was by no means unattractive; it was quite the opposite actually, the waitress could attest to that. Also the fact that you could tell he’s in good shape underneath his stylish yet simple suit was incredibly appealing. His job not only suited him but gave him an almost knight-ly appearance to him which was admiral and charming to most everyone. Mycroft couldn’t conceive as to why Gregory would be into him.

Mycroft viewed himself as a tall, slightly chubby man, with a very shrewd face and an even more shrewd personality. Which was great for his occupation but not for his love life. It was unbelievable that someone as heroic and handsome as Lestrade could feel anything, if only that emotion was lust for him.

“Well, I think we’ll just have to agree to disagree.” Greg stammered out. Just as Mycroft had predicted, the use of his informality did not go unheard.  “I hope this doesn’t seem forward. But uhhh—do you want to go back to my place for some more privacy and poss-possibly some more drinks? I think I only have some beer though. Of course you don’ have to if you don’ wanna!” He rushed out the proposal and the rest, slurring a little bit towards the end the alcohol was only slightly getting to him.

“I wouldn’t mind some more privacy, and I think some beer would be rather appropriate given how much liquor you’ve had.” Mycroft grinned at Greg, teasing him slightly.

Greg blushed, he took the teasing in stride. “It’s been a bad night up until now. I think this excuses the amount I’ve drank.” He laughed back at Mycroft.

“Shall we catch a cab?” Mycroft asked with seeming innocence.

“Definitely!” Greg replied with a wicked grin.


End file.
